


This Is Home

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Trans Clyde, Trans Clyde Donovan, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 12:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13764342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In which Clyde Donovan reflects, explodes, and seeks comfort from the girl he's liked since he was ten.





	This Is Home

**Author's Note:**

> Uh...first South Park fanfic??? Holla???
> 
> Honestly idk if this is ic bc i just started watching, but here. Take it. Clyde Donovan is trans and I'll fight you on that. Thanks for coming to my ted talk.

_Get a load of this monster,_  
_He doesn't know how to communicate._  
 _His mind is in a different place,_  
 _Will everybody please give him a little bit of space?_

_Get a load of this train wreck,_  
_His hair's a mess and he doesn't know who he is yet._  
 _But little do we know the stars welcome him with open arms._

-This Is Home, Cavetown

* * *

Clyde Donovan had always known he was a boy.

Ever since he could remember, it had been a fact. The sky was blue, the grass was green, Clyde was a boy. Simple.

His parents, at first, had disagreed.

Clyde can remember his mom forcing him into skirts and dresses as a toddler as he screamed and cried, unable to articulate that it wasn't the fact he had to wear clothes that was bothering him, but that they were the wrong ones.

_“Skirts are for girls, mom!”_

_“Sweetheart, you_ are _a girl.”_

_“NO I’M NOT!”_

After that, his parents started to pay attention. They realized that maybe Clyde was right. He was still called by his old name (mostly because he was indecisive as hell and nothing felt right), but he knew that he’d figure it out eventually. Then his mom died.

_“Y’know kiddo,” his dad had said, head in his hands, “your mom always loved the name Clyde. We were gonna name you that.”_

Well, if that wasn’t a sign.

After that, Clyde Roger Donovan was born.

When everyone was younger, it didn’t really matter that Clyde was trans. Hell, some people even forgot. He had been so young when he realized that most of the kids had only ever known him as Clyde. Before everyone started getting older, more specifically before puberty hit, you couldn’t even tell that Clyde Donovan didn’t have a dick.

As the kids of South Park got older, however, it became more obvious.

The day Clyde got a binder was one of the best days of his life. He’d been feeling weird lately, mostly about his body. He’d started to grow boobs, and that wasn’t the best feeling. When his dad caught him crying over how he wanted them gone, Clyde knew from the purposeful way he went to the computer that he was going to do something. And a week later, that something showed up.

“Son? Come downstairs, I have a present for you!”

Clyde had run down the stairs, leaving Craig and Token in the dust, too excited over the prospect of a present to care that much. Turned out he didn’t need to worry, as the pair calmly made their way downstairs a few moments later. When Clyde pulled the binder out of the packaging, his eyebrows furrowed.

“What—” he had begun, but then he realized. Tears welled up in his eyes as he took in the bright blue binder, and when he realized that there were three more in other loud colors, Clyde started wailing. After he’d gotten himself under control, the twelve year old had run upstairs to try them on. Afterwards, he modeled them for everyone in the house, his smile wider than it had been in awhile.

Then, they began middle school. All of Clyde’s friends began to shoot up like weeds, their voices cracking and facial hair growing. They’d make jokes about how their dicks were bigger than everyone else’s, and Clyde would smile and laugh through them all. He didn’t tell them how much it hurt.

Logically, he knew they weren’t trying to be mean. They were just being teenage boys. But Clyde was never one for logic, was he? No, he was emotional, and he cried too much because of it. He wasn’t very smart either, and that definitely didn’t help his self confidence. It wasn’t like his friends knew that Clyde could feel a panic behind his ribs at the mention of anything about the male anatomy. They didn’t have to deal with feeling like their body wasn’t their own, like it was _wrong._

(Turns out, that’s called body dysphoria.)

Clyde was never good at bottling up his emotions. It usually led to him lashing out, blowing up at anyone near him and leaving everything a huge mess. Which brought him to right now.

Clyde Donovan was sitting in his room, lights out, door locked, and tears trailing down his cheeks. He’d screwed up. Of course he had. He’d said things he didn’t mean, and now everyone hated him and would never want to speak to him again.

Stupid body.

Stupid brain.

Stupid stupid stupid.

_“No no no!” Clyde laughed, watching as Token kicked his character’s ass yet again. Token merely snorted, rolled his eyes, and finally knocked Clyde’s character out._

_“UNFAIR!” Clyde shouted, and this time Craig rolled his eyes, flipping Clyde off for good measure._

_“Dude, he won fair and square.” Craig argued, and Clyde huffed dramatically._

_“I want a rematch, Token.” Clyde whined, and Token crossed his arms over his chest._

_“I don’t understand why you like losing so much.” He finally replied, and Clyde made an offended sound._

_“Excuse you!”_

_Beside him, Clyde heard what sounded suspiciously like a chuckle from Tweek. Clyde turned to the boy with a glare._

_“You too, Teacup?”_

_Tweek merely shrugged, and Clyde groaned._

_“Fake friends, all of you.”_

_Eventually, the game was forgotten, and it turned into Interrogate Clyde About His Love Life Time._

_Everyone at school knew Clyde had a crush on Bebe. He’d been captivated since he was ten for god’s sake. Four years was a long time to like a person and not say anything, and everyone told him as such. It wasn’t that Clyde didn’t want to make a move, it was that he wasn’t sure if he should. Bebe, like everyone else, knew that Clyde was trans. To his knowledge, Bebe didn’t care. She still considered a him a close friend. They’d text daily about everything and nothing, he’d walk her to classes, and once, she kissed him on the cheek when he dropped her off at her house. Clyde really, really, really liked Bebe. She was funny and sweet and seriously kickass in general, all wrapped up in a beautiful smile and bright brown eyes._

_Clyde didn’t stand a chance._

_“Dude, seriously. She’s into you. Just ask her out already, we’re tired of hearing you whine.” Craig said, and Clyde glared at him._

_“It’s not that simple, man.” Clyde protested, and Token raised an eyebrow._

_“Why not?” He asked, and Clyde opened his mouth, only to close it. He couldn’t force the words out._

_“Because he’s being a pussy, that’s why.” Craig sighed, and Clyde froze._

_Craig didn’t know that bugged him. He really didn’t, because Clyde had never said anything because he didn’t want to sound like a whiner. But Clyde was having a bad week; he failed his test in algebra, he and his dad had gotten into a fight neither had fully recovered from, and he hadn’t been sleeping well._

_Craig might not of known, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t make Clyde snap._

_“Don’t call me that.” Clyde said lowly, and everyone’s eyes shifted around warily, “don’t you call me that, Craig. Not cool.”_

_“Dude, what—” Craig started, but Clyde cut him off._

_“I hate it when you call me that. I hate it when you guys constantly joke about how you’re getting beards and your dicks are bigger than Cartman’s will ever be or whatever, because it just makes me remember that none of that stuff will happen to me. I hate that I’m stuck in this stupid body, I hate that I need to wear something that might break my ribs if I wear it too long to feel normal, and I hate that you guys don’t seem to get that! It’s hard, okay? And I’m not asking Bebe out, because why would she say yes? She’s way out of my league, and even if she wasn’t, why would she want to date some weirdo who was born in the wrong fucking body, huh?!”_

_Clyde didn’t realize he had stood until he was done ranting. His chest was heaving, and he could feel tears in his eyes. Why did he always have to fucking cry?_

_Silence._

_Clyde looked around in horror, his friends looking at him with wide eyes. He said too much. He said too much, and now things were going to be weird. They were going to stop talking to him forever and he’d be alone and—_

_“Clyde—” Tweek started, but Clyde cut him off._

_“Nevermind. I gotta go home.” Clyde said quickly, his voice wobbling._

_Before anyone could say anything else, he ran._

So now here he was. Stuck in his room. He’d run right past his dad, locked his door, and ignored the soft knocking that came a few minutes later. Looking at his clock, Clyde checked the time. 3:20 AM.

She probably wasn’t, but…

**[Sent]:** hey r u awake

Clyde shut his phone off and waited. A few seconds later, his phone pinged.

**[Received]:** yeah why?

Clyde breathed out, and sent his text before he could second guess himself.

**[Sent]:** can i call u?

Almost immediately, his phone started ringing. Clyde took a deep breath in, and swiped to answer.

“Hey. Are you okay?” Bebe Stevens’ voice broke out into the silence of Clyde’s room, and Clyde felt what little semblance of calm he’d gathered fall apart. A choked sob stuttered out of him, and Bebe continued in a more urgent tone, “Clyde? Clyde, what’s wrong?”

“I—I just—” Clyde was cut off with another sob.

“Clyde, hon, I want you to breathe with me. Okay? Inhale four seconds,” Clyde did, “hold seven seconds,” he managed, “exhale eight seconds. Good. Do it again.”

After a few minutes, Clyde felt himself calm down to a point where he could actually talk. Sniffling, the fourteen year old wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and grounded himself.

“Okay. I’m good.” He croaked.

“Good.” Bebe replied, and Clyde could hear the smile in her voice. Clyde swore he heard a car drive by on her end of the line, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Hey, where are you?” He asked, and Bebe cleared her throat.

“Nowhere important. Just…give me a few minutes, alright?”

After Clyde gave her a confused reply, the line was silent. That was fine, though. Clyde always felt better when he knew Bebe was listening. A few minutes passed, and Bebe finally spoke.

“Open your front door.” She said.

“Uh—”

“Seriously Clyde, it’s cold out.” Bebe cut him off, and the pieces finally clicked.

“Wait, did you sneak out? At 3 AM?” Clyde was on his feet in seconds, rushing to unlock his door.

“Maaaaaaybe?” Bebe giggled, and Clyde was practically running down his stairs. When he got to the door, he checked the little peephole, and yep, there was Bebe Stevens, looking as gorgeous as ever in her rumpled pajamas and bedhead.

Clyde unlocked the door and opened it, ushering her inside.

“It’s gotta be below freezing out there Bebe!” Clyde hissed, watching as the blonde rubbed her arms to get feeling back in them, “you’re not even wearing a coat! What—”

“You were upset.” Bebe cut him off, and Clyde could feel his jaw hit the floor, “you were upset, and I needed to get here quickly. I forgot my jacket, but it’s fine. I’m here now aren’t I?”

Clyde blinked. Shut his mouth. Looked at Bebe in awe. She really came all the way from her house, just because he was upset. In the cold. At 3 AM.

_Holy fuck, I’m in love with her._

That thought made Clyde’s face turn red, and he sputtered out nonsense. Bebe, somehow understanding what he needed, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close.

“C’mon. Why don’t we go upstairs and you tell me what’s wrong. Sound good?”

Clyde nodded.

Hours later, when he was done telling Bebe how he felt about his friends, about how he was terrified he’d die alone and that nobody would ever love him because of his body, she was silent. Clyde was half asleep (but who wouldn’t be when their head was in Bebe’s lap and her fingers were carding through their hair slowly), but he heard her loud and clear.

“Clyde, that’s stupid. Who _wouldn’t_ love you?” She whispered, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Clyde felt like all the blood in his body rushed to his face at Bebe’s words, and he couldn’t help the wide smile that bloomed on his face. He felt Bebe smile against his skin, and he couldn’t help the content sigh that fell past his lips. Maybe Craig was right.

_I’ll make a move. Soon. When I’m not half asleep and looking like shit._

When Roger Donovan went to check on his son the next morning and found him curled up against Bebe’s chest, he didn’t say anything. He merely closed the door quietly with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: trashben


End file.
